Convoy
by lwbush
Summary: A Lyrics Challenge response, where a song is given by another writer, and the story must use the song title and lyrics. A better description of the process is included in the introduction to the story. Please feedback to let me know if you'd be interested


# Convoy

(Written for the fourth GJRS Lyrics Challenge)

by Lori Bush

A short description of a Lyrics Challenge: Participants all receive the name of another participant, to whom they send song lyrics. The recipient must write a story based on the song, using the song title as the story title, and with one character speaking at least one line from the song somewhere in the story. Normally there is a time limit of one to two weeks allowed. Since the list involved is the Gabrielle/Joxer Romantics society, those type stories proliferate, but aren't required. For other Lyrics Challenge responses, see the archive, at [http://www.crosswinds.net/~lyricsarchive/index.html][1] .

Although this was the fourth GJRS LC, it was the first I'd ever participated in, so my distress was great when I received this song.

First, I would like to that Greg for the lyrics. I would _like_ to, but I'm not sure I can. To be honest, I went through the roof when his e-mail arrived. He gave the word "challenge" a whole new meaning. However, this actually ended up being great fun to write, so I guess I have to – thanks, Greg. I'm still going to get even with you someday…

Once you see what I was working with, you may forgive me for going a bit long. I did manage to get several lines from the song in, however. I used more than one in case any single one was used inappropriately, or was too short, or anything.

Disclaimer: Hey, I stretched my creativity to the limit with this story. Go read one of my other cute disclaimers in another story…

Rating: G

Sex: No, although this is a dirty story. Pay attention to the pigs.

Violence: None, since I've calmed down and won't kill Greg.

  
Convoy  
C. W. McCall  
  
  
Yeah breaker 1-9, this here's the Rubber Duck, you got a copy on me   
Pig   
Pen, come on.   
  
Uh, yeah 10-4 Pig Pen, fer sure, fer sure. By golly, its clean clear   
to   
Flagtown, come on.   
  
Yeah its a big 10-4 there Pig Pen. Yeah we defiantly got the front   
door, good buddy. Mercy sakes alive, looks like we got us a convoy!   
  
It was the dark of the moon on the sixth of June,  
in a Kenworth haulin' logs,  
cab overpeet with a reefer on,  
and a Jemmy haulin' hogs.  
We wuz heading for Bear on I 1-0,  
'bout a mile out of Shakeytown.  
I sez Pig Pen this here's the Rubber Duck,  
an' I'm about to put the hammer down.  
  
Chorus  
  
'Cause we got a little old convoy,  
rockin' thru the night.  
Yeah we got a little old convoy,  
ain't she a beautiful sight?  
Come on and join our convoy,  
ain't nuthin' gonna git in our way.  
We gonna roll this truckin' convoy,  
'cross the USA!!!  
CONVOY!!!!  
  
Uh breaker Pig Pen, this heres the Duck, an, uh, you wanna back off   
them hogs? Uh 10-4 'bout five mile or so, 10-Roger. Them hogs is gettin'   
INTENSE up here.   
  
By the time we got into Tulsa town,  
we had 85 trucks in all.  
But theyz a roadblock up on the clover leaf,  
an' them Bears wuz wall to wall.  
Yeah, them Smokeys wuz thick as bugs on a bumper,  
they even had a Bear in the air.  
I sez, callin' all trucks, this here's the Duck,  
we about to go a huntin' Bear.  
  
  
Chorus  
  
'Cause we got a great big convoy,  
rockin' thru the night.  
Yeah we got a great big convoy,  
ain't she a beautiful sight?  
Come on and join our convoy,  
ain't nuthin' gonna git in our way.  
We gonna roll this truckin' convoy,  
'cross the USA!!!  
CONVOY!!!!  
  
Uh, you wanna give me a 10-9 on that Pig Pen? Uh, negatory Pig Pen,   
you're still too close. Yeah them hogs is startin to close up my sinuses.   
Mercy sakes you'd better back off another ten.   
  
Well we rolled up Interstate 44,  
like a rocket sled on rails.  
We tore up all of our swindle sheets,  
and left 'em settin' on the scales.  
By the time we hit that Chi town,  
them Bears wuz a gettin' smart.  
They'd brought up some reinforcements,  
from the Illinois National Guard.  
There wuz armored cars,  
an' tanks an' jeeps,  
an' rigs of every size.  
Yeah them chicken coops,  
wuz fulla Bears,  
an' choppers filled the skies.  
Well we shot the line, we went for broke,  
with a thousand screamin' trucks.  
An' eleven long haired Friends O' Jesus,  
in a chartreuse microbus.  
  
Uh Rubber Duck, this is Sodbuster, come on.   
  
Yeah 10-4 Sodbuster, listen. You wanna put that microbus in behind   
that   
Suicide Jockey? Yeah, he's haulin' dynamite an' he needs all the help he can   
get.   
  
Well we laid a strip for the Jersey shore,  
prepared to cross the line.  
I could see the bridge wuz lined with Bears,  
but I didn't have a doggone dime!  
I sez Pig Pen, this here's the Rubber Duck,  
we just ain't a gonna pay no toll.  
So we crashed the gate,  
doing 98.  
I sez let them truckers roll,  
10-4!!  
  
  
Chorus  
  
'Cause we got a mighty convoy,  
rockin' thru the night.  
Yeah we got a mighty convoy,  
ain't she a beautiful sight?  
Come on and join our convoy,  
ain't nuthin' gonna git in our way.  
We gonna roll this truckin' convoy,  
'cross the USA!!!  
CONVOY!!!!  
  
  
Uh 10-4 Pig Pen, what's yer 20? OMAHA?!! Well they oughtta know what   
to   
do with those hogs out there, fer sure. Well mercy sakes good buddy, we   
gonna   
back on outta here so keep the bugs off yer glass and the Bears off   
yer...tail. 10-4 

Day One

Joxer looked back at the load in the wagon. Logs – lots of them. He studied the two sturdy oxen he was guiding, and decided that they were probably as bored as he was with this whole trip, but for them, it was a lifestyle. How did he get himself into these things? How did most people get into uncomfortable situations they later regretted – it usually involved either their passions, or money. Joxer would love to know what it would be like, to regret something done in passion right now, instead of something he had to do for money.

He had awakened that morning in a stable on the outskirts of Piraeus, his head aching from last night's mead, and three dinars in his purse. He knew that if he was ever going to catch up with Xena and Gabby again, he needed at least enough money to keep body and soul together until he found them, and three dinars would get him today's lunch, maybe. The immediate order of business would be to seek gainful employment.

Fortunately, Piraeus was a port town, and a great many goods were sent to points farther inland from this place. He figured he could get work either unloading a ship, or transporting goods. Giving it some thought, he decided that transporting would be the way to go, since he could get paid while trying to track down the Warrior Princess and the Bard at the same time. 

His actual plan was to hire on as a guard for a group of wagons, but for some reason, none of the people hiring for those positions had a place for him. Even after he explained that he was a close friend and even occasional sidekick of Xena, the Warrior Princess, not one of the men he had spoken to cared to test his credentials. Perhaps they were afraid to have such a great warrior on their team – he might attract danger, rather than fight it. He could understand them feeling that way – bad things and bad people always seemed to seek out Xena, as well. So he decided that he would keep his talents a secret, and hire on as a driver, instead. That way, he would still be able to fight any danger that might appear, but he wouldn't seem to be there in a protective role and therefore he wouldn't draw miscreants.

So here he sat, alone atop a the seat of a heavy wooden cart, carrying cedar logs from Lebanon, which he _knew_ was a long way away, to the temple at Delphi, which at this moment seemed every bit as distant. His employer had promised him two hundred dinars, however, and that was a veritable _fortune_. He had even advanced him 25, seeing as how he wanted his driver to survive until he reached Delphi, and he probably would need money to do so. He'd also provided him with some grain and fruit, since there weren't a lot of places along the way to spend his precious dinars on food. Joxer wondered why this man was so eager to have him transporting his logs, anyway. He had hardly looked at Joxer or listened to his qualifications when he'd applied. A quick glance, a mumbled "You'll do," and here he was, bored to tears but getting paid twice the going rate to be that way. He'd stay quiet, and enjoy his money.

Day Three

Joxer looked over at his traveling companion. The road here was wide enough for two wagons to move side by side, and he wished to the gods it wasn't. He tried to take a deep breath, and abandoned that effort immediately. He struggled on with what air currently rested in his lungs. "Uh, Saldaus, um, Pig Pen," he gasped out, "Could you, like, _follow _me for a while? I think the road is narrowing up here." The genial farmer looked ahead and nodded, apparently seeing the tapering that Joxer was so fervently praying for. He pulled on the reigns while the log wagon moved ahead, allowing his wagon full of hogs to pull in behind the other. Joxer wondered as he breathed in the clear air if lonely boredom might not have been the better choice. He had met Saldaus in a pub in the last small community he had passed. He was moving livestock to the Pindus Mountains, and had suggested they travel together as far as Delphi. Joxer was briefly hesitant when the man shared his nickname, but the benefit of company overrode his nervousness about the man's chosen moniker. Perhaps he should have gone with his original instincts.

There was nothing quite so ripe as a wagonload of hogs. Unpleasant in a small group, hogs in large bunches made the smell of goat's milk after a week in the sun seem relatively refreshing. Joxer decided he needed _more_ company on this journey, since he was stuck with Pig Pen and his aromatic cargo. As if the gods were for once listening, the would-be warrior spotted another wagon, this one loaded with ceramic pottery, up ahead. He slapped the reigns on the backs of the oxen, which caused them to speed up imperceptibly, and he attempted to overtake the other traveler.

Day Six

There were a lot of people heading in the direction of Delphi with cargo, and Joxer had added three more wagons to his group. He probably would continue to add others, Joxer mused, as long as Pig Pen was a part of the procession. Whoever drew the slot in front of the hog farmer usually recruited the newest addition.

They were stopped for lunch; the hog wagon as far from the eating area as humanly possible while still remaining in sight. The travelers had combined resources, and meals were far more filling then he had originally expected. Joxer had unofficially become the team leader, and was trying to think of a name for this haphazard collection of people and cargo. He liked things to have names – it made putting them in his song so much easier. "Group of lonely cargo haulers traveling together to avoid dying of boredom" just didn't rhyme well with anything. As he was considering this dilemma, he heard a familiar and completely unexpected voice not far away.

Xena had been following a couple of Roman soldiers for several days now, she and Gabrielle blending into the background so as to remain invisible. She normally would have taken them out already, but the warrior woman was deeply curious as to their purpose, so far inland in Greece. Finally, it seemed they had reached their destination – a group of undefended wagons were gathered around, their owners apparently partaking of their midday meal. Xena moved in closer to listen to the guards discuss their strategy. 

"Caesar wants this guy brought back alive," the taller centurion said, "so he can make him an example for others who might choose to ignore the Roman Tariff laws." Xena's hackles rose at the name of her old nemesis. Anyone who had managed to get away from Caesar's unfair collection process was deserving of a little help in his efforts.

"Yeah," the smaller one retorted, "and the load of valuable cedar wood we'll confiscate is a nice bonus."

Xena figured that she had heard enough to go on, and a few minutes later, the guards had been rendered useless as a threat. She did use the pinch on the larger one first, and confirmed that there were several other teams of centurions searching for the same wagon. She decided she had better meet the driver.

Gabrielle had met and befriended one of the drivers while waiting on Xena – a man named Saldaus, who, while pleasant enough, possessed the most _interesting_ aroma – one that encouraged her to remain _distant_ friends with him. He also had the grammar and elocution of a person who had little to no formal education – or even informal education, for that matter. The bard was reasonably sure that there was no such word as _ain't_ anywhere in the Greek language, however, Saldaus' conversation was liberally sprinkled with that and other creative words and phrases. Gabrielle would have sighed with relief at Xena's return, but that would require taking a deep breath first, and with her current company, that was something she would rather avoid. 

"Gabrielle," Xena greeted her, "What's that smell?"

The bard frowned at her friend, but in answer to her question, turned to the farmer. "Saldaus, meet Xena; Xena, Saldaus."

"Jiminy, girly, I tole ya to call me Pig Pen – all muh frien's do."

Xena couldn't help but wonder where this man found actual _friends._ However, that was not her concern right now. "Pig Pen, I need you to introduce me to the driver of the log wagon. Do you know him?"

"Why shure 'nuff, tuff lady. He's 'bout the nicest guy on this here trail. I jus' bet y'all are gonna luv 'im." With that he shuffled off to the campsite, the two women following him at a distance.

They heard the familiar voice before they could see him, since they were attempting to keep Pig Pen downwind at the time. "Caravan isn't quite it. Let's see, we're 'conveying' things, so maybe something like that? I have it – 'convoy'"

Joxer's voice rose in triumph, while Xena's sounded out in some surprise.

"Joxer?" Xena couldn't quite mask the shock in her voice.

Gabrielle was right on her heels. "What are _you_ doing here?" the bard asked.

"Why, ya wanted to meet up with the feller drivin' the logs – this here's him, ain't ya, Jox? The leader of our bunch, too, ain'tcha?" Pig Pen obviously admired Joxer, but then, Gabrielle figured the farmer didn't get out much.

"Look there's a bunch of Roman soldiers looking for you," Xena explained to her startled sometimes sidekick. "I know these logs aren't yours, so whoever you're working for is one brave guy, since he cheated Caesar out of his tariff, which is a sure way to end up crucified on some Roman hill. However, the centurions seem to think that you're their target, so we need to get these logs to wherever they belong and get you away from them as quickly as possible."

Pig Pen stepped forward, and the other three stepped back reflexively. "We had some trouble with them Roman guys whur I come from. Bars, we called 'em, since they's big and mean, and ain't gonna give up without a fight, just like a bar protectin' her cub." Gabrielle wondered what Roman centurions had in common with a tavern, but as the man's soliloquy continued, she realized that he was saying "bear." It seemed a fitting moniker for the aggressive Romans.

It took nearly an hour for all the explanations, plans and discussions, but the group was finally on their way. Gabrielle rode on the wagon beside Joxer, and Xena was on Argo, watching the sides of the trail and the ground ahead for signs of the other Roman troops. The six wagons stretched out behind Joxer and his oxen as they plodded northward. He was explaining to Xena his system of communication, which he had dubbed "C.B.", short for Call Back.He would call a message back to the driver following him, who would call it back to the next, and so forth. Xena couldn't help but wonder if the message received by Pig Pen in the last wagon bore any resemblance at all to the one Joxer originally sent, but she kept her doubts to herself. She figured that, now that she was here, she could convey any message of importance to the various drivers herself and insure its clarity. She was going to push Joxer to get the whole group to Delphi as quickly as possible, if only to finally lose the now permeating scent of hog.

Day Eight

Xena looked at the line of wagons, which Joxer insisted on calling the "convoy," stretching down the trail. It was quite impressive by this time. They had wagons full of grain, several peddlers' carts, a fabric merchant and even a group of Hestian virgins who had mistaken Xena for the priestess Leah. After much effort, the Warrior Princess had gotten them to stop bowing to her, but they were headed to Delphi as well, and refused to go away. They said they felt safer in the large group.

And large it was. They now had at least thirty wagons, with the various drivers and passengers numbering close to 85. As each had joined, Pig Pen and his pork wagon got pushed father back down the line, until she could no longer see him at all. That was one of the best things about the new additions, in her opinion. Otherwise, the size of the group was a bit unwieldy. Still, she had interviewed every incoming driver, and she knew how many men were armed and capable of helping in the area of defense if they were needed. She sincerely hoped they wouldn't be.

They were just outside of Delphi now, and the reports from outbound travelers weren't encouraging. Apparently, the Romans had somehow found out what Joxer's destination would be, and were blocking the inbound roads. Never ones to pass up a chance at income, they were charging toll to anyone wishing to pass. It was now late afternoon, and after the dinner break, Xena had ridden down the line, informing the assembly that they would travel on in the dark, hoping that would ease their entrance into the town. If nothing else, she hoped it would make Joxer harder to identify, should he have to abandon his cargo and run for his life.

Gabrielle wore a strained smile as her wagon mate waxed poetic. He had given up on trying to concoct a new verse to "Joxer the Mighty" (thank the gods!), and had decided that a Homeric epic alone could capture the experience. Homer needn't fear the competition, the bard mused. He was mumbling, trying out word combinations and phrases until she seriously considered walking back to ride with Pig Pen. She would, too, except for the fact that, quite honestly, after this trip she hoped never to _see_ a pig again. Finally, he found a couplet he liked, and recited it. 

"'Cause we got a mighty convoy, rockin' thru the night. Yeah we got a mighty convoy ain't she a beautiful sight?" He smiled, pleased with the results. She winced. She didn't know which was worse – Pig Pen's smell or his grammar. At least only the latter had rubbed off on her friend. If he continued on past Delphi with her and Xena, she was going to see that he returned to speaking proper Greek.

Xena held up her hand, and Joxer's oxen, never in any hurry, ground to a slow stop. The entire convoy plodded to a standstill behind him. Ahead, she could make out the line of centurions blocking the path. She approached the wagon containing her two friends. "I think we can take them," the warrior woman assured the pair. "I'm going to go collect my other fighters. Joxer, wait until I give the signal, then lead the convoy in." Xena rode down the line, men jumping from wagons and going forward as she summoned them. They had a group of at least fifteen, and the Roman troop was no larger than that.

When she reached the end of the line, she considered simply ignoring Saldaus and his stinking cargo, but she felt obligated to inform him of the current situation. He grinned and waved his fist. "We about to go huntin' bar,' the man hollered, joyously. Xena smiled lamely and exited rapidly. Gods, she hated pigs.

Joxer glared at the barely visible Romans before him. Just before she jumped down to join the fray, Gabrielle heard the man mutter, "We ain't gonna pay no toll."

She couldn't help herself any longer. The bard turned on him, viciously hissing, "Joxer, there ain't no such word as ain't!" As she stormed off with the others, he sat looking after her in wonder.

The Romans were totally unprepared for resistance, and stood little chance against the incensed Greeks. It seemed only minutes after the combatants had set forth that Joxer heard Xena whistle for him the way she did for Argo. He called back to the driver at his rear, and stirred the big dumb animals into action. A few remaining Romans were attempting to hold their ground, but at the promise of a face to face confrontation with a couple of moving oxen, they reconsidered their valor and chose to retreat. The convoy rolled triumphantly into Delphi, whistling and cheering their congratulations to the group of defenders.

Once Joxer delivered the logs to the temple, he was able to collect his remaining pay. He didn't think he had ever _had_ two hundred dinars all to himself. He felt flush, and knew exactly what his first purchase would be. First, though, he had to make sure that the rest of his merry band knew of his appreciation for their company.

They were camped outside the city, just opposite the site of their glorious victory. When Joxer entered the camp, all the drivers and their crews stood and cheered him like a hero. He held up his hand, and when they quieted, he spoke. "I appreciate the thought, but all of you know I didn't have anything to do with us getting here, except for the fact that I have friends who were willing to help me out. If you want to cheer, cheer for Xena and Gabby." He pulled them out of the crowd, and the group cheered once more.

The three walked back towards the city, automatically holding their breaths as they passed Pig Pen's wagon, way on the outskirts of the camp. Finally exhaling, Gabrielle asked the would-be warrior a question that had been bothering her. "Joxer, why were you so willing to give us the credit back there? You usually _take_ credit for the things we do together."

He shrugged. "I dunno, Gabby. I guess I figure that now that I'm rich, you guys can be famous. I don't need both."

Xena laughed. "Joxer, I'll be surprised if that two hundred dinars lasts you until next week."

He pouted. "Aw, Xena, now you made me feel bad about inviting you to dinner tonight. I _never_ have this much money – couldn't you let me enjoy spending some of it on my friends?"

Gabrielle took his arm, and Xena smiled and took the other one. "That's exactly the reason, Joxer. You're too generous for your own good. You'll have spent it all on other people, or given it away to someone you think needs it more than you do, before the week is out. But I _could_ use a decent meal…"

The three friends sat in the tavern, watching the young man approaching their table. "Good evening," he said. "I'm Jason, and I'll be your server tonight. Let me tell you about our specials this evening. We have pork roast with caramelized onions, a ham and cheese omelet, and a lovely squab wrapped in bacon." Joxer felt all the color drain from his face, and noticed the same reaction from Gabrielle. Xena looked distinctly green.

He looked at the waiting young man. "Excuse us, but do you happen to have a vegetarian menu?"

   [1]: http://www.crosswinds.net/~lyricsarchive/index.html



End file.
